


The Intern

by melmac



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Canon, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-07 23:06:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melmac/pseuds/melmac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark gets his dream internship with Luthorcorp and learns more than he ever imagined</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Intern

Clark glanced at his watch again. Despite his best attempts at summoning all the powers of the universe to reverse time, the watch still showed he remained ten minutes late for his internship. He tried to silence his mother's words in his head:  _How can you be as fast as lightening and as slow as molasses all at the same time?_  His mother obviously didn't understand the complexities of trying to sleep when a keg party raged until 3am just below your dorm room.

He quickened his pace. The LuthorCorp tower loomed above the city a few blocks away. He glanced at his watch again nervously, but using super-speed on the crowded streets of Metropolis was too risky.

Three minutes later he was rushing past the guards in the lobby, remembering at the last moment to flash his security badge, ignoring the admonishing glare of the security guard. He thought about zipping quickly up the stairs to the executive suites, but this time his father's words haunted him, reminding him that big businesses like LuthorCorp have cameras everywhere.  _Why do elevators take so long?_

His only saving grace was that maybe Lex was embroiled in some morning meeting and would have no idea that his "star intern" was now fifteen minutes late. Those hopes were quickly dashed when he pushed through the doors to the executive suite and saw Lex standing just outside his office doors, talking to his secretary. Lex's glance at the large deco clock in the anteroom would be imperceptible to most, but Clark caught it and a blush of shame darkened his cheeks. Before he could stop himself a rush of apologies came tumbling out of him, and he was grateful when Lex merely smiled, stopping his fumbling words with a wave of his hand.

"Its ok Clark, I just got here myself. Wait for me in my office; I'll be there in a minute."

When Lex finally entered and took his place across from him, Clark couldn't help notice how worn his shoes looked, or how floppy his hair must be; and when did his hands get so huge? He didn't quite know where to put them, and finally decided on the edge of the desk, upsetting a small vase sitting close by. He prayed silently for a trap door beneath his seat, and bent hurriedly to retrieve it, noticing a small chip along the rim.

He cursed inwardly, and cleared his throat ready for another string of apologies. The soft laughter erupting from his new boss stopped him cold, but he sat up straight and faced him, feeling he deserved the humiliation. Lex saw the pained expression on Clark's face and tried to regain his composure

"Look, I'm sorry Clark, I don't mean to laugh, but it's just a vase and it was chipped before."

Clark smiled back, relieved and shook his head in wonderment at himself. "I'm sorry too; I don't know why I'm so nervous. The harder I try to make a good impression, the more of a disaster it becomes."

"Just relax Clark. You're here because I like you, and think you're perfect for the job."

Then something suddenly occurred to Clark. "Um . . . Mr. Luthor . . . what exactly is the job?"

"Call me Lex, and I haven't decided yet."

Clark just looked at him puzzled. "Haven't decided...?"

Lex leaned back in his leather chair.

"I'm not in the habit of taking on interns, at least not in the executive suite."

"Oh . . . why now then, if you don't mind me asking?"

Lex leaned forward now, looking him directly in the eyes. Clark moved back instinctively.

"There is something about you Clark. You intrigued me."

Clark felt something cold slide down his spine, and he swallowed hard. He glanced down at his sad attire, fingering the cuff of his pale blue shirt absently.

"Me? . . . I mean, I'm surprised you considered me at all; I'm a journalism major."

"A journalism major who's one of the top students in his economics class. You're supposed to want to tear down men like me, not become one."

"I don't." He said it a little too quickly . . ." I mean, not that I wouldn't want to be a business man . . . I just . . ." His words failed him and the corner he backed himself into grew narrower.

But Lex only smiled, knowingly. "Well I'm here to show you Clark, that maybe your future isn't exactly what you imagined it would be."

Clark's eyes shifted nervously, unsure of how to respond.

Lex stood up suddenly, buttoning his jacket that even to Clark's untrained eyes looked like the cloth wove itself just for him.

"But right now, we have a meeting."

Clark rose from his chair, "We?"

"Yes, we." He placed a hand on Clark's shoulders, and walked ahead of him. Glancing back over his shoulder he added. "And you may want to rethink the tie."

* * *

The wind whipped his dark blue jacket above his hips as he stood high atop Metropolis waiting for the distant chopper approaching. He cut a striking figure against the clear blue sky, his back perfectly erect, dark hair swept back off his forehead, as he tried fruitlessly to snag his dark crimson tie, flapping carelessly over his shoulder in the gathering breeze.

Clark tugged uncomfortably at the stiff white collar of his shirt, a habit Lex had yet to break him of. He shifted his shoulders inside his blazer, never quite getting over how something so formal could be so comfortable. The jacket followed the lines of his body perfectly, falling gracefully around his frame. It felt like a second skin.

Lex never asked if he wanted the suits. One day he simply found a tailor waiting for him in Lex's office when he arrived for work. No amount of protesting could dissuade Lex from this extravagant purchase. He insisted it was more about making sure someone who represented him looked the part, and while Lex put it as gently as possible, it still stung-Clark simply didn't look the part. Too embarrassed to press the issue further, he submitted himself to a full hour of poking and prodding. He had to admit the end results were wonderful.

In the last several weeks everything he ever thought about the world and his place in it, had been thrown for a loop. Lex introduced him to a world of six-course dinners, power lunches, and combed Egyptian cotton-and Clark drank in all of it. All his life he'd been warned of the evils of big business, especially the Luthors, whom his father felt ruined the sleepy town where he grew up, but evil didn't seem to apply to Lex.

As far as he could tell, his business practices were fair, if not a little aggressive, and Lex treated him as an equal; always eager to have Clark by his side, and Clark didn't mind basking in his reflected importance. The chopper began its descent to the roof heliport. Clark stepped back as it landed, waiting for Lex to emerge.

When he disembarked from the helicopter, Lex couldn't help but smile at the sight of Clark standing on the roof of LuthorCorp dressed in a two thousand dollar custom tailored suit, beaming at him with such earnestness. The sun shone directly into his eyes, illuminating them like blue-green crystals and his hair whipped around his head, tousled into a mass of unruly curls-the effect was beautiful.

Perfect for what he planned for this evening.

Clark smiled and reached for his briefcase. "How was the trip?" Lex kept walking, talking as he moved. "It was good . . . very promising. Do you own a tuxedo?"

Clark laughed, "You're kidding right? I've been to two formal dances in high school and both times the tux was very rented."

He studied Clark for a moment, taking measurements with his eyes

"We need to get you one; I don't think I have one that will fit. There's a party tonight I need to attend, and I'd like you to come with me."

Clarks stopped. "Tonight? Lex, I have two huge tests tomorrow, and I hoped to get some studying done."

They continued to make their way into the building. "And I have every faith you'll do well on your test tomorrow. Tonight I need you Clark. "

"But Lex, I-"

Lex turned around and faced him, and Clark knew that expression well, but it had never been directed at him.

"I thought you took this internship seriously."

Clark felt his own anger and indignation rising in him. "I do, I just-"

"Just what Clark? Just as long as it's convenient for you?"

Clark was truly puzzled now. "No . . . I'm sorry Lex, I didn't mean that at all."

Lex softened his gaze. "Good, then there's nothing more to discuss. I'll have a few tuxes sent over this afternoon, and Martin can take care of any last minute alterations. You'll have to change at the penthouse, and we'll go to the function from there."

Clark, nodded, still feeling the edge of the reprimand he just received.

"So what is this party?"

"It's the annual LuthorCorp party, where we attempt to woo potential international clients. It's a completely overindulgent affair, but crucial to our business for the coming year, and I hope I can count on you."

"You can."

Lex slapped him affectionately on the back. "Good. Now let's go to my office, we have a lot to discuss."

* * *

Overindulgent was an understatement. The rooftop ballroom of the city's most elaborate hotel looked as though it'd been transported from another realm. The whole room shimmered beneath a dizzying array of purple and white lights, and a light show transformed the circular ceiling into a forest of stars. Clark stood at the edge of the ballroom, feeling the pulsing energy from guests milling around, smiling too hard, and laughing too often, draped in the most expensive garments Metropolis could provide.

He spotted Lex among them finally, looking incredibly graceful and at ease in a sea of black suits. Clark smiled at the deep purple cloth of satin peeking out from the breast pocket-a bit of himself injected into the uniformity of a tux. Lex caught his eye from across the room, and motioned with a slight nod of his head for Clark to join him.

Lex stood with two very distinguished looking men, who he introduced as the head of a French pharmaceutical company. The taller of the men looked at Clark with an odd mixture of lust and derisiveness, letting his eyes travel slowly up Clark's body. He felt like he'd been stripped bare, and he blushed ferociously. The man laughed at his predicament, not bothering to take his eyes off of Clark. He smiled and said to Lex and his companion,

"Mon dieu, il est beau."

Clark knew very little French, but he knew what that phrase meant. He glanced at Lex for support, but Lex only looked at him with a slight smirk.

"Mr. Garceneau, you're embarrassing my young friend here."

Mr. Garceneau nodded, but continued to laugh, muttering to his friend "Si beau"

Clark wondered if Lex would forgive him if he exited the ballroom suddenly, too fast for anyone to notice he was leaving. All of them moved to go, but Clark stayed rooted to the floor, absorbing the sensations of anger and embarrassed, and buried deep, flattery, that were jumbled inside of him. He barely noticed Lex's hand gently on his back.

"They're about to serve, our table is this way . . . and Clark? Be nice to Mr. Garceneau, I think he likes you."

Clark looked at him incredulously. "What?"

Lex sighed. "I'm not asking you to take him to the men's room and blow him Clark, just smile once and a while and laugh at his jokes. A man like Garceneau just wants to pretend a person as young and beautiful as you finds him interesting, even just for an evening."

Clark flinched, he wanted to say he never thought such a thing, but he'd seen that look before, recently even, but he couldn't pinpoint where.

"Is that why I'm here? You thought he'd like me?"

Lex left his face expressionless and answered coolly. "Part of the reason, yes, but mainly I wanted you to experience this. It's a very important night, and I thought it important you be a part of it. Mr. Garceneau is just a necessary evil. Don't worry, I promise you'll leave the party with your virtue intact."

Clark looked completely unconvinced, but followed Lex to the table.

The party raged on past midnight. As the drinks flowed, ties and syntaxes became loose, and Clark found more than one pair of wandering hands finding reasons to graze against him. By the end of the evening, he felt tired, agitated, confused and disturbed by a growing erection-an erection that persisted even after they arrived at Lex's penthouse afterwards.

He sat in the living room, arranging and rearranging his jacket, trying to make sense of the evening. Mr. Garceneau hadn't taken too many liberties with him, and as Lex told him, he seemed perfectly content with Clark listening intently and laughing on occasion. Even though nothing really happened, he still felt like he'd been pimped out for the evening, and he began to think his father's warnings weren't unwarranted. Lex seemed completely in his element all evening. He discovered a side of him he'd only glimpsed in the boardroom, and he felt both compelled and repulsed by it.

"Would you like some coffee?"

Lex's voice snapped him out his thoughts, and he looked up to see Lex, now with jacket and tie off, leaning over his kitchen counter with a cup in his hand. He looked a little tired, but very alert. Clark rose slowly, fixing his jacket into place, and joined Lex in the kitchen.

He took the steaming cup from Lex, and leaned against the counter opposite him, getting lost in his head again. He shifted his leg uncomfortably, wishing his erection would subside. Suddenly he felt Lex's eyes boring into him. He looked up and followed Lex's gaze to just below his belt. There seemed to be no end to his embarrassment this evening.

"God . . . I'm sorry . . ."

Lex moved towards him. "Don't be, you're only human Clark, it happens to the best of us."

Before he could respond, Lex was suddenly in front of him, pulling on his zipper, pushing his hand inside his pants. Clark's cock pulsed hard against his fingers and he tugged it roughly. A sharp gasp from Clark prodded him on and he stroked harder, keeping his eyes firmly on Clark -eyes were wide with shock, coloring cheeks and lips slightly parted and moist. His hands groped for Lex's hand, pushing it away, but his body betrayed him and his cock continued to grow hard, swelling in Lex's expert grip.

His nerves crackled and his skin shimmered while his brain screamed warning after warning-only to be ignored while he gave into every new sensation rushing through his body.

He fell against the counter, gripping it hard, as he threw his head back, moaning and allowed all the pressure to release itself into Lex's hand. Lex withdrew quickly never taking his eyes off of Clark as he wiped his hands on a kitchen towel.

Clark stood there, head buzzing, trying desperately to grasp what had just taken place. Lex moved away from him now, washing his hands in the sink. He spoke; something about whether Clark wanted to go back to his dorms, a waiting car-it all seemed so far away as he glanced down at his open pants-cock now flaccid, hanging, still wet with come. Every decent thought he ever had told him to put it away, zip up his pants and run like hell. But he was afraid to move.

"Clark . . . do you want me to call the car around?"

Clark nodded-shutting his eyes tightly wishing the earth would open up and swallow him whole.

* * *

What do you get for your boss who gave you a hand job the night before? Would flowers be appropriate? How about chocolate? Clark was seriously at a loss. The idea of walking into the executive suite this morning seemed impossible to him, as he rounded the corner towards LuthorCorp.

Lex was on him so fast it was over before it began. He still remembered the disinterested way Lex moved about the penthouse, as he made his hasty exit, not being sophisticated enough to know the exact thing to say-'thank you' didn't really seem fitting. He knew he should have quit and never set foot in the building again, but there he was walking through the doors of the executive suite, determined to confront Lex about last night. The secretary greeted him as he entered the offices, holding out a large brown envelope towards him.

"Good morning Clark. Lex phoned-he's working from the penthouse today, and asked that you bring these papers to him. He's expecting you now."

He'd been told to go right up when he arrived at the penthouse that "Mr. Luthor was waiting for him." He found Lex sitting on his leather couch, hunched over some papers scattered across the coffee table. Clark's eyes avoided the kitchen-the scene of last night's crime. Lex finally looked up, and there seemed to be no hint of previous events in his eyes.

"Thanks for bringing those to me . . . just put them down anywhere."

Clark tossed them on the table, unsure of how to bring up such a delicate subject. He stood there, fear chewing inside of him, wishing Lex would relief him of the responsibility.

He finally just blurted it out.

"Why did you do . . . what you did last night?"

Lex shrugged. "You look you needed it."

"So you just? . . ."

Lex looked at him casually. "You didn't tell me to stop. There's no need to get upset about it Clark. You seemed uncomfortable, and I wanted to do it."

"Why? . . . I mean we never . . . I didn't know you were . . ."

Lex laughed, moving closer to Clark.

"Gay? I'm not gay Clark. Its not about gender, it's about sex, and at that moment, I wanted to watch you come."

Lex stood directly in front of him now.

"Life isn't as complicated as you make it out to be. Sometimes people want to get off, it's not the end of the world."

"I didn't want you to do that."

"But you enjoyed it and you didn't tell me to stop."

Clark shook his head, this wasn't going as planned. His body responded last night, his mind decided to take a vacation, much like it was doing now.

"No . . . but."

"There is no but Clark. If something feels good, just relax and enjoy it. Your body doesn't know the difference if the hand or mouth belongs to a male or female-if that's really what you're worried about. It only knows it feels good." Lex cupped Clark's balls through his pants. "Like it knows this feels good right now."

Clark jerked away, angry now.

"What are you doing?"

"Clark you're angry with yourself, not with me. I'm sure your upbringing doesn't even allow you to accept what's happening right now."

"It has nothing to do with that!"

Lex advanced on him, moving with the tenacity of a predator.

"Then what is it Clark, because you're very hard right now."

He stroked Clark's cock through the fabric, and waves of pleasure spread through his groin. Clark's breathing changed, and his back arched slightly, he felt his legs trembling as Lex unbuckled his pants and slipped them down his thighs. Clark pulled away, but Lex held him firmly around the hips, murmuring it "was going to be fine", that it would "feel amazing."

It was like a dam broke inside his body, as Lex's warm, soft mouth enveloped his cock; running his tongue along the length, then returning to engulfing it whole. Clark never felt anything close to it in his life, and though his brained screamed how wrong it was his hands gripped the back of the leather sofa, hanging on for dear life.

Then his shirt was being pulled off of him, and a tongue circled each nipple, while the hand continued to stroke his still erect penis. Every nerve ending felt exposed and raw, and his body hummed with a new energy. The feelings were as intense as any exposure to kryptonite, the pleasure matching the intensity of the pain.

Lex inserted a finger inside of him, and he froze. This was too far, he had to stop it, but Lex pressed further, finding a spot Clark didn't know existed, and he cried out with shock.

"Lex . . . please . . ."

Lex stroked his hair. "Shhh . . . it's going to feel incredible I promise . . . just turn around."

And because his body obviously knew much more than he did, he complied, and everything he ever knew to be true in the world changed in that moment-the moment Lex entered him, pushing him over the edge, until he no longer cared about right from wrong, only that this moment never end.

Lex thrust hard against him, reaching around to pull roughly on his cock. He felt Lex's smooth chest against his back, and soon he moved in rhythm with him. His brain was in fragments, and he felt this incredible pressure building until he had no choice but to give him. He came with a strangled moan, gasping, dreading the next moment when his brain would knit itself back together.

Lex moved away from him, panting, and collapsed into a nearby chair. There Clark stood, half bent, with pants around his ankle, and shirt hanging off his shoulders.

In stunned silence, Clark pulled up his pants, and shrugged his shirt back on his shoulders. He didn't dare look at Lex.

"Where's the bathroom?"

Lex barely heard him, completely sated. He pointed in the general direction of a long hallway, and Clark slipped past him quietly.

He didn't recognize the boy in the bathroom mirror, but he realized he hadn't recognized him in a very long time. He washed quickly and knew the only thing he could do now is leave, go home, and pray he could prevent this from happening again.

Lex sat in the same position when Clark returned to the living room. If he knew about such things, he'd say Lex had a beautiful body-but he didn't, a few moments ago he'd only been interested in what that body could do to his, and now he felt numb, on the brink of a humiliation like no other.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to leave now. The papers you wanted are on the table."

Lex nodded, barely glancing in his direction. Clark stood there for a moment, trying to think of something to say, and finally turned towards the door, leaving without another word.

* * *

After constant debate over a tormented weekend, Clark walked through the doors of LuthorCorp Tower for what he hoped would be his last time. He'd lost himself somehow and quitting seemed the only way to redeem himself.

He pushed through the doors of the executive suite with his argument firmly in place, barreling ahead in the direction of Lex's office.

"Clark!" Lex's secretary's sharp cry stopped him in his tracks. She avoided his eyes, but beckoned him over to her.

"Lex isn't in yet. And...he asked me to give you this."

She held out a small square blue velvet box. He took if from her with some trepidation.

"What is this?"

Her voice faltered a little. "I'm really sorry Clark. Mr. Luthor said to tell you the internship is over, and to please take this as a token of his appreciation."

Clark's eyes went wide. "What?"

She truly looked sorry. "I normally would escort you out . . . but if you leave on your own, I'd prefer it. It'd be better for both of us. I really am sorry Clark . . . I really thought it'd be different this time."

Completely baffled, he opened the small blue box. Inside was a platinum Rolex watch, with two diamonds embedded in the face. He pulled it out, staring at it, noticing a small inscription on the back.

**_To my favorite intern, you'll go far. LL_ **

His stomach twisted in on itself, and he felt light-headed, he mumbled "Thanks" and ran through the doors as quickly as possible. He no longer cared about security cameras and sped down all thirty-nine flights at full speed until the sun smacked him the face. He gripped a light post, gasping for air, caught in the throws of his first panic attack. He tossed the crumbled pieces of the watch to the ground, slowly trying to catch his breath. As he stood up finally, face wet with tears, he vowed that whatever he did with the rest of his life, a great deal of it would be dedicated to taking down men like Lex Luthor.


End file.
